


A Second Chance

by NotWhoIAppearToBe



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Gay Sex, Ivar in college, Ivar is petty, M/M, Past life experiences, Professor Heahmund, Reincarnation, Second Chances, Shared Dreams, trying to fix the past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-04-23 17:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19155394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWhoIAppearToBe/pseuds/NotWhoIAppearToBe
Summary: “I am the one, Ivar. You can believe in me.”“LIAR!”Set in modern times, Ivar and Heahmund have shared dreams of the past neither can understand. Professor Heahmund is set to teach a college course on religion where he will meet one very stubborn and angry student who rubs him the wrong way yet both cannot seem to walk away from each other. This is their second chance to get things right.





	1. Dreams

“I am the one, Ivar. You can believe in me.”

“LIAR!”

With a start, Ivar woke up in bed, the scream still on his lips, body covered in sweat and his breath heaving from the dream. He turns to look at the bedside clock and sees it is only 3:30 in the morning. Groaning, he lays back down, hands reaching up to cover his eyes as he tries to get himself under control. A difficult task for someone who always feels his emotions to an extreme. For Ivar, there was no such thing as being happy, sad or mad. No, those feelings were too simple, too common for him. He felt genuine glee, enthusiasm, depression, betrayal and fury unlike anything anyone had ever seen before. 

These dreams were starting to get to him. Since he was a boy, he had dreams of a different time and place. He starred in all his own dreams. Him and that other man. The dreams had come periodically, once a week, twice a month, sometimes he wouldn’t have them at all but inevitably, they always returned. They never came in any specific order and they were always vignettes of events. In some he was young and in others he was clearly older. There were other people in his dreams but they were all shadows, wisps of people who ultimately did not matter. All except this one man. He did not know his name but he was the only one who was ever in sharp detail in his dreams. 

He knew his face and his voice as well as he knew his own. The only thing he did not know was the man’s name. The man often called him Ivar but his own name remained a mystery. It was as if a haze came over him whenever he spoke it and he could never remember it. It was one of those little details that drove him crazy.

There were other details in the dream that he kept note of. The man was older than him. He wore a cross around his neck at all times and carried a sword unlike any he had ever seen. Privately, he could admit that seeing the man in his dreams was something he looked forward to. He did not know how to explain it. In his dreams, the man understood him. The Ivar in his dreams was very much like he was in his own life and this man was the only person who thought like him, who understood Ivar’s emotions and moods. He could also admit he felt something for the man but he felt stupid admitting all this to himself. How could he care for someone that wasn’t real? And yet he did. 

He knew he was not going to get anymore sleep. This dream had particularly disturbed him though he had had it before. It was not the dream itself really but rather Ivar knew what was going to happen later between him and that man. Rather than dwell on it, he slides himself to the edge of the bed, and begins the task of putting his prosthesis on his leg, his mind still dwelling on the dream. As he finished his task, he stood slowly and limped to the kitchen, absentmindedly chewing on his lip as he pondered why these recurring dreams were getting stronger and happening nightly. Why now? 

A part of him hoped that perhaps soon he would get to the end of the dream and finally find out what had happened between him and the man but the other part of him had the strange feeling that there would be no resolution between them.

Turning on the lights, he turns on the coffee maker and waits, his mind still on the dream.

*************************************

(In another part of town, another man, another dream)

 

“Heahmund. I do not want to be right. I want to believe in you.”

His eyes slowly open as the dream ends abruptly. He lays there, recalling the dream and all the dreams that preceded it. Sitting up, Heahmund rubs the rosary hanging from his neck, saying a silent prayer asking God for enlightenment. Why? Why was this happening to him? As long as he could remember these dreams had haunted him. Dreams of a warrior bishop. He was that warrior bishop living in another world, one far removed from his modern one. He had dreams of battles, kings and queens, swordplay and he more often than not dreamed of him. The young man he often traded verbal jabs with. In his dreams, they tried to outsmart each other. They were so different and yet their thoughts were far ahead of everyone else’s. He dreamed of them in battle, the young one covered in blood, him pointing a sword at him during a storm. They were adversaries in some dreams, allies in others. 

It was the feelings the dreams evoked in him that confused him. Feelings towards this young man. He felt reluctant respect, admiration and though he hated to admit it, he felt a pull towards him. An attraction. Sometimes when he woke, he found himself aching and hard, wanting release he knew only the young man could provide. It scared him because none of the dreams were sexual in any way yet they had a connection, a bond between them that more often than not left him frustrated and unfulfilled. He still did not know how the dreams ended. There had to be more to the story than what he had seen so far. 

The young man had captured his imagination and his thoughts. Even when awake he would think of him. Getting out of bed, he walks to the desk in his room and pulls out a black leather portfolio, unzipping it and removing the art book within it.

He was no artist but he had some skill for drawing. Looking through them, page after page were filled with scenes from his dreams. The majority were of the other man. He was young, younger than Heahmund himself was but his face was so carefully drawn in detail. Heahmund had dreamed of him so often, he felt as if he knew him personally though that was a secret he kept to himself. He had nothing to add to his portfolio of images this morning but he felt better just looking at them. 

It was still too early to get ready for work but he could take the time for a workout. Putting his portfolio away, he gets some clothes and shoes so he can go to the gym for a workout before work.

******************************************

He was sluggish. The haunting dreams were making him tired and even more irritable than usual. Ivar gets dressed, taking his time. He hated college and classes and reminded himself that the only reason he went was because his father’s will had stated that none of his children would inherit their share in the company unless they received their college degrees. Such bullshit is what it was but his father had been a smart and canny man. Bjorn and Ubbe had accomplished this. Hvitserk would soon be there. The only consolation he had was that he had been able to test out of many classes putting him ahead of Sigurd to be the next to receive his degree. Anything that pissed off Sigurd was a bonus for him. As intelligent as he was, Ivar was also ambitious. He did not plan to stay towards the bottom forever. No, he had plans of his own. He gave himself no more than 6 years before he was running the company and his brothers were working for him. Except Sigurd. He’d probably fire him. Maybe.

Looking at the clock, he starts to hurry a little. He needs to go to campus to get a waiver for the stupid Religious Studies class that was one of his prerequisites. He had tried to test out of it before but it had not been allowed. Today, he had to go in person to fill out the waiver to bypass the class altogether. What a stupid subject. Who cared about studying religion anyway?

******************************************

His body covered in sweat, Heahmund looked at the time and estimated he needed to hurry and leave the gym soon. He had to go home and shower then get ready for work. The fall semester would be starting in a few weeks and he had a faculty meeting to attend. He enjoyed his work as a Professor at the University. Each class had its own unique set of challenges and always brought forth a variety of interesting students. 

As he left the gym, he picked up the pace. It wouldn’t do him any favors to be late on the first day back for the faculty. He needed to also make sure his syllabus had been approved since this would be his first time teaching Religious Studies in a while.

Later, during the faculty meeting, a file was dropped in front of him by the Dean. 

“Here you go Heahmund. School hasn’t started and already we have a petition to withdraw from your class with a Pass if they test out of it. Your choice.”

Picking up the file, Heahmund glances briefly at the name and the student record.

“Ivar Lothbrok. It appears that he has been able to test out of the majority of his undergraduate prerequisite courses. Good for him except religion isn’t something you can’t take a test for. We study several religions, not just one. He’s going to have to man up and attend class like everyone else.”

Writing the word DENIED in red letters, he tosses the file back to the center of the table and continues to look through his syllabus for the topics covered each week. He had already forgotten about the student and his request. 

**********************************************

“Fuck you Professor. H. Bishop. Fuck you and your religious bullshit. You won’t let me waive the class? Fine. I’ll make this the semester of hell for you you pompous prick.”

Ivar was furious. His waiver had been denied by the chair of the department with the stupid reasoning that one could not take a test and claim to know about faith. He was tempted to go see the man in his office but decided against it. He could make his point in other ways. He’d show up to class then make it his mission to contradict the man and make him rue the day he met Ivar Lothbrok.

Satisfied that he had a new plan in place, Ivar gave a grim smile as he walked away from the admissions office and towards the bookstore. The semester would start soon and he needed books on world religions.


	2. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another shared dream. Heahmund and Ivar find themselves frustrated by these dreams and what they could mean. They can't dwell too long on them. It's the first day of class and they both need to get ready.

“Bishop, you have a choice. Fight alongside me, or I will kill you.”

“What are your wars to me?”

“A way of staying alive”

“I am not afraid to die for my faith.”

******************************

Eyes opening, Heahmund stares at the ceiling in frustration. Night after night, the dreams came, one right after the other. He had tried a sleeping pill and all that had done was prolong the nightmare of one battle dream in which he had been captured. Or the bishop warrior with his face had been captured. It was getting to be so that he was starting to refer to himself as the bishop warrior from his dreams. 

Dreams were part of the subconscious which helped explain why the dreams had religious overtones. The warrior part was still a mystery to him but he figured and hoped that sooner rather than later he would learn the importance of these dreams to him.

He could vividly recall the details. He could still feel the chains around his wrists as he knelt and spoke to the man who was always present. He was in half shadow and half light. The sincerity in the soft voice of the young man who haunted his dreams and his every waking moment now.

He would recognize that voice anywhere if he heard it. 

It was almost embarrassing to admit but he had started paying attention to the voices around him, as if hoping to hear his man again.

He wasn’t irritated that the dreams ended. It was with a jolt of surprise that he realized he was frustrated he kept waking up. The dreams were becoming far more preferable than the reality of the life he led. This realization worried him. It was apparent that despite some of the dreams being brutal and terrifying, he began to look forward to them if only because it meant he got to see the young man that was always there.

He couldn’t continue this way. He would make an appointment to see a psychiatrist about this. It couldn’t be healthy to prefer to live in a dream than live your real life.

He looks at his clock and sighs. His alarm was about to go off soon. 

It was the first day of class.

*************************

“I’m not asking you to renounce your faith. Or to fight against Christians. All I’m asking you is to kill more of those you call heathens.”

“Why do you offer me this choice?”

“Because I am jealous of you. I would like to be like you. Strong. And whole. A great warrior. That is why I saved you. And that is why I want you to fight alongside me.”

*************************

There were tears in his eyes when he woke from the dream. He’d had them before and he hated this one. He hated to admit that he was different in any way. The Ivar in his dreams was as crippled as he was. He never saw his prosthesis in one leg and the braces in his other leg as a detriment or a weakness but for some reason, it always came up in his dreams, angering and disturbing him. 

The warrior was his captive yet he was practically begging him to fight alongside him because he needed his help. He needed his fucking legs. Ivar hated weakness and he hated seeing that vulnerability within himself even if it was only in his dreams. 

The Ivar in his dreams was far from weak so why was he showing this much to the warrior? 

He knew why. For the same reason he would have done so. There was a pull between the two. Some strange bond he could not explain. The cripple and the bishop. The pagan and the Christian from opposite sides were drawn to each other. There was something there between them that was calling to be explored.

Had they really existed? He wasn’t sure. He had tried to look them up online but history from that era was difficult to put much stock into since stories were handed down orally. Perhaps later when he had more time he would be able to do more research but for now, he would have to settle for the dreams he had come to both enjoy and hate. He enjoyed them because he saw the bishop warrior and he hated them because of the feelings they brought out in him.

Ivar was not a man prone to showing his feelings but this warrior bishop seemed to bring out the best and the worst in him even if those emotions were just in dreams. 

The beeping of his cell phone reminded him to get up and get ready. Classes started today and first on his schedule was Religious Studies with Professor H. Bishop, the asshole who would rue the day tangled with Ivar Lothbrok.

*************************

Heahmund prepares his notes for the day. As it was the first day, it was simple enough. He would go over the syllabus with the class, the required textbooks and the dates of the midterm and final. The real work would begin the next class. Giving instructions to his assistant to go ahead and make sure the room is ready, Heahmund takes a few minutes to himself before heading out. The first day was always a little nerve wracking.

Assured that everything was in order, he takes his laptop with him and leaves his office to go to class. The doors would open in a few minutes. 

*************************  
Ivar was standing outside the doors of the classroom. He wanted to be sure he was the first one in and sitting right in the front. If he was forced to attend, he would make this professor work. A grim smile lighting his features, he shifts his bag to take the weight off his left side which was starting to slightly hurt from standing so long.

As the door opens, Ivar walks right in and drops his bag in the seat closest to the podium. He wanted to give this professor a real treat this semester. Gauging the time, he decides to go hang out in the bathroom and walk in a little late. There was nothing he liked better than disrupting someone else’s routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's so short but I will make up for it in the next chapter. PROMISE!


	3. Recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar and Heahmund finally meet though things don't go as expected for either of them.

He moves faster, aware that he was cutting it close. Heamund hates being late, especially to a class when the students were judgmental and would use his tardiness as an excuse to screw around and come in late. He’s relieved when he makes it with a few minutes left to spare. It gives him just enough time to take a deep breath and get ready to welcome this new class of students for the semester.

Entering the classroom, Heahmund smiles at the students already assembled and begins to prepare. Setting his laptop up, he sets up the display with his name, email and office hours. Looking at the clock, he begins by passing out the syllabus to the class. He doesn’t speak to them yet. He wants to give them time to read it first and formulate any inevitable questions they may have.

It’s the buzzing of his phone that reminds him of his cell phone usage policy.

“Please keep reading the syllabus. I normally do not approve of the use of cell phones in class unless of course it’s in case of emergency. I will step outside for a brief moment to answer this then we will get started.

Opening the door, his eyes on his phone, he’s about to answer when he feels a peculiar sensation creeping along his skin. Looking up, his phone slips out of his hand and hits the ground with an audible crack as he stares in shock at the face he’s been dreaming of for years looking back at him. 

*************************

Ivar hangs around in the bathroom, playing on his phone before he gets bored. Looking at the time, he realizes class started five minutes ago. He briefly debates on staying an additional five minutes or returning to class. 

His own curiosity and desire to start messing with Professor Bishop win out as he slowly walks back to the classroom. How to torment the man this first class? Maybe he could ask the same stupid repetitive questions just to annoy him? Make appointments during his office hours just to harass him? For certain he would find a way to argue with him about every facet of religion just to bother the man.

He’s approaching the door with a wicked smile on his face as the door opens. A slight frown crosses his face as the man looking down seems familiar. His heart begins to thud in his chest as if he was in a race but he doesn’t know why. When the man looks up, Ivar feels everything inside of him freeze as he stops and stares at the warrior bishop standing in front of him looking every bit as stunned as Ivar was.

*************************

Flashes of dreams roll through Heahmund’s mind. He sees this young man standing before him, frozen in place but he’s not really seeing him as he is. He sees him as he once was. Long hair in braids, leather armor, a crutch and braces on his legs. The man before him is dressed in jeans and a t-shirt designed to display the wealth of muscles on his arms and chest. He swallows as he takes him in, not really knowing what to say. He feels shock but buried underneath that he feels sorrow, grief and yes, he feels desire. All these emotions slam into him as he continues to wordlessly stare.

*******************

For Ivar, the moment is surreal. He only focuses on the dreams (memories?) of this man. The feelings he evokes in him. He’s filled with a warring combination of anger, desire and betrayal. He knows it’s not logical to feel all this towards a man he technically has never met and yet he knows they have. The way the man is staring at him assures Ivar that he too somehow recognizes him. Like recognizes like. Or perhaps it was something more.

Uncertainty seizes him causing him to narrow his eyes. Ivar was never uncertain. It was an emotion that he was unfamiliar with and it only annoyed him. Walking right up to the man, Ivar stands close to him, invading his personal space. He can smell the man’s cologne as their faces are inches apart. He doesn’t know what to say or how to react to this man.

********************

Neither know how long they stand and stare at each other, no words being exchanged until the door is opened and the assistant pokes his head out and looks at them curiously.

“Ummm...Professor Bishop? The class is ready to start.”

Heahmund looks at his assistant blankly before recalling why he was there. In his shock of finding the man of his dreams, he’d forgotten why he was even there in the first place.

Looking back at Ivar, he makes a helpless gesture, not sure if he’d see him again once he returns to his classroom. To his surprise, Ivar starts to enter the classroom then turns to look at him with a smirk.

“You coming Professor?”

Heahmund gives a startled laugh before picking up his now shattered phone and follows him, not sure of his footing but he knows he has to get started. He sees that the young man is sitting in the front row, his eyes piercing Heahmund’s as he waits for class to begin.

It was going to be an interesting semester but first he needs to know his name. Taking attendance for this first class only, he instinctively knows this man would be Ivar Lothbrok. As soon as he sees the name on his roster, he knows and he remembers the name from his request to have the class waived. For some reason, remembering this settles him and he looks at Ivar and smiles, knowing he has the next 16 weeks to find out more about him.


	4. Dream Man

Flustered. That’s what he was feeling. Heahmund was not the type to lose his cool or let things get to him but being in class on this day with this man sitting in front of him, cool blue eyes piercing him with their stare, he felt flustered and uncertain. Unwilling to show it or admit to anything, he forced himself to relax and gave a small smile to the class before putting on his glasses and beginning, refusing to stare or look at Ivar. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“Good morning everyone. I’m Professor Heahmund Bishop and welcome to Religious Studies 101. Over the course of the semester, we will be covering a series of different world religions. Some you may have heard of and others may be new to you. Included in the syllabus are the ones we will concentrate on. Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, and Indigenous Traditions. We will also be touching on other not widely practiced and lesser known faiths including Nordic religions and lesser known sects…”

He stopped speaking, distracted he was by the hand that was raised. Ivar’s hand. 

“Ah, yes? Do you have a question?”

“You’re telling me that with the exception of the Nordic religions, the rest is a study of fairy tales?”

A sly smile creeps across Ivar’s face as he speaks. He knows his question will likely piss off the professor and his classmates. Sure enough, there was an intake of breath from his classmates, a slight murmur of voices and all eyes went to Heahmund to see his reaction.

To his credit, Heahmund showed no expression to Ivar’s question. He wasn’t surprised. If his dreams of this young man were any indication, he hated religion in general and would take every opportunity to be miserable to everyone in class unless Heahmund drew the line of tolerance with him now.

“Regardless of what your personal views on faith and religion are, you will comport yourself with decorum and at least give respect to the beliefs of others. You may not agree with religion but you will give it the considerations they have earned. If this is not agreeable to you, come see me during my office hours which are on the syllabus and I am sure we can agree to withdraw you from this class and find you something more suitable. Do you understand?”

Ivar’s face did not lose it’s grin but rather it becomes feral. For one long moment, Ivar and Heahmund stare at each other, neither budging but Ivar finally relents. He can concede this particular battle against the professor.

“It wasn’t meant to be offensive but I will make an effort professor. Go on. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

The rest of the class went off without a hitch or any sass from Ivar. When their time together was up, Heahmund dismissed the class, wondering if Ivar would stay behind to talk to him as so many students often do. To his relief and disappointment, Ivar packed his things and left without even looking at him. 

The rest of his morning goes rather well for a first day though he admits Ivar had been on his mind far more than he should have. He was just a student. Ivar just happened to resemble the man from his dreams but that was pure coincidence. It had to be. He buried his dreams and own feelings deep so that by the end of the day, he was starting to believe that perhaps he had somehow seen Ivar somewhere or a man that looked like him and he was projecting his face into his own dreams. 

*************************

In his office, Heahmund stands by the window, relieved it’s the end of his day. Mondays were always his longest days of teaching. If Ivar did not withdraw, he would see him again on Wednesday. And why was he thinking of Ivar again? Agitated, he runs a hand through his hair as he swears.

“That’s quite a mouth you have on you Professor. If you use words like that during a religion class, students may find it more interesting.”

Heahmund turns around, staring at the man who has occupied his thoughts for the better part of his day. How could someone so vibrant move so quietly? Ivar fairly radiated energy and life yet Heahmund had been so deep in his own thoughts he had failed to hear his door open or close. Rather embarrassed to have been caught off guard like this, Heahmund remains aloof and defensive.

“Are you here to withdraw Ivar?”

Again that sharp and feral smile crosses his face. Ivar moves closer to Heahmund until he’s standing directly in front of him.

“Why would I do that? You and I, it was fated we would meet. You know who I am just as I know who you are...warrior bishop.”

At Ivar’s words, Heahmund froze and felt the blood drain from his face. He had tried to deny it but Ivar knew. He was aware of what was happening.

“You...you had the dreams too.”

It wasn’t a question.

There was only one way Ivar would know to call him that. Realizing how close Ivar was to him, Heahmund takes a step back, a movement that has Ivar chuckling a bit.

“Yes, I’ve dreamed about you...Heahmund. I’ve been dreaming about you for a long time, though I still do not understand why. Perhaps you have a theory, hmmm? Or perhaps you need more time to accept that this was something preordained for the two of us? You have studied religions. You know dreams mean something in every faith. So what do your dreams say about us? Think about it.”

Turning to leave, he’s stopped by Heahmund’s hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he looks at Heahmund, holding his now shattered phone at him.

“We will dream tonight. Be sure of it Ivar. Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps we were fated to meet but do you really think it ends now just because we know the other exists? If anything, perhaps now we will learn more. Here. Enter your number. If I dream, you will hear from me. The same applies to you.”

Ivar looks at the phone before taking it and putting in his number and adding it to Heahmund’s contacts. 

“You really should go get a new one. This broken screen sucks Heahmund. There you go. If you dream of me, just look under your D contacts. I’m there.”

With a wide smile, he leaves the office and laughs to himself. For his part, Heahmund scrolls to the letter D under his contacts and has to laugh. Ivar had listed himself as Dream Man. But he was right. He needed to go buy a new one immediately. For the first time in a long time, he was looking forward to going to bed and dreaming.

*************************

Later that night…

 

They stare at each other, one reclining against a table and the other is on his knees in the mud. Their dreams have finally revealed their names. Ivar the Boneless and Heahmund, Bishop of Sherborne.

Heahmund is being taunted, thrown in the mud and yelled at while Ivar watches. 

“Now you’ll decide whether you will fight for us, or whether I’ll kill you.”

Ivar presses the knife to Heahmund’s chest, slowly applying pressure as they stare at each other. 

“Nothing is keeping you alive but me.”

Heahmund looks down at the knife digging deeper into his chest before he looks at Ivar again.

“Why don’t you give me the knife?”

A look of surprise crosses Ivar’s face before he smiles at Heahmund and carefully turns the knife, the handle now in Heahmund’s possession who looks at it and gives Ivar a brief smile before turning it to his own chest and faces the taunting and screaming crowd. One man in particular was in his face, screaming for him to kill himself and die. Ivar watched, more entertained than anything else, wondering what Heahmund would do. When Heahmund thrust the dagger under the mans chin and into his head, Ivar felt a thrill run through his body, a smile lighting his features. For his part, Heahmund remained as emotionless as ever, throwing the knife down as Ivar laughed and clapped for him.

“I think he will fight with us!”

Both men awaken at the same time at the conclusion of this dream.

Ivar woke up smiling, having enjoyed this part of the dream. He could still feel the remnants of bloodlust coursing through him from watching some strange man die in his dreams at the hands of Heahmund. Turning to his side, he grabs his phone from the nightstand and shoots a quick text to Heahmund before settling back and wondering yet again why they had shared dreams and this strange connection. Now that he knew their names, he had plans to research them and find out everything he could about them but he also had other ideas. With the dream of the night out of the way, Ivar’s own thoughts went to Heahmund. He was attracted to the man. More than attracted if he was being honest with himself. It never occurred to him to think of their ages or their differences. Ivar didn’t care about any of that. He just wanted to disrupt Heahmund’s life in any way he could be it at work or his personal life.

********************

Heahmund woke up and felt disgusted with himself and with Ivar whom he was certain had likely enjoyed this dream. Though the bishop in his dream had felt no qualms and felt no remorse over killing the man, Heahmund himself was confused. His own logic told him it wasn’t him so stop worrying about it but the other part of him couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. It’s the soft chime of his phone alerting him to a message that manages to distract him.

[text received: Dream Man] Stop feeling guilty. Free tomorrow? Let’s meet to talk. 8 pm. My place or yours? [/end text]

Heahmund stared at the text for a long while. How the hell did Ivar know he was feeling guilty. Christ, he seemed to know Heahmund better than anyone else in such a short time. He wanted to see Ivar again to discuss the dream and start trying to figure all this out but another part of him just wanted to see Ivar. This confused and worried him. Ivar was young, 19 or 20 at most while he himself was 32. Besides the age difference, he was a professor and Ivar was his student. What could they possibly have in common besides these dreams? It was better to keep this professional and focused strictly on researching these dreams. Nothing good could come out of him lusting over Ivar. On a sigh, he finally replies to Ivar.

[text sent to Dream Man] 8 is fine. Your place. Send me your address.[/end text]

There. It was safer to go to Ivar’s place. He could leave when they finished talking but in the meantime, he had research to do. He needed to find out as much as he could about these two men. With a plan of action already in place, Heahmund relaxed and willed himself to go back to sleep. 

When Ivar read the text, a smile slowly crossed his face. The Professor was coming over to his place. Perfect. Everything was going according to plan.


	5. Research and Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heahmund & Ivar begin to research their respective counterparts never realizing the consequences of their actions.

The next day seemed to drag for both of them as they did their own research on their apparent dream counterparts. Heahmund spent his time researching scholarly articles, periodicals and other peer researched journals for that specific time period, the names of important Vikings as well as battles. Over and over he referenced and cross-referenced names and dates. His eyes were bleary with information but one thing was certain after he realized that researching more would do nothing except give him a huge headache; Ivar the Boneless and Bishop Heahmund of Sherborne had been real. They had existed and had apparently fought against each other several times until the Bishop had fallen in battle. The timeframes aligned so Heahmund could only assume that the bishop had died fighting against Ivar. It made sense but did nothing to explain his dreams. Was he supposed to believe that somehow him and Ivar were reincarnations of these people? Unlikely and still…  
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Heahmund notes the time and starts to clean up and get ready to head out to Ivar’s place.

Ivar researched but avoided the mainstream websites. In order to get to the truth (in his opinion), you needed to bypass the bullshit the boring old guys put out as fact and really dig until you found real sources. Experts in Viking lore and mythology. Historians could only give you facts. It was the true experts that could tell you the stories of heroes because like Ivar, they knew that Vikings had an oral tradition. Nothing would have been written down. He would have to find these stories and songs about them. He dug deep until he found what he was looking for. It was here that he finally hit pay dirt on King Ivar the Boneless and Bishop Heahmund, a Saxon priest Ivar had taken hostage. Fascinating! Pages were bookmarked of sites he would show the professor and theories he had been formulating as he had read and researched. Anger was building inside of him as he kept researching. The more he read, the angrier he got though he knew it was irrational to be this mad over what he was reading. He was tense when he heard the doorbell go off. Looking at the time, he realized he had gotten too distracted by his research and had forgotten to stop early. He leaves his laptop open so he can show the professor his own research and goes to open the door, his fury still simmering under the surface of his fake smile as he opens the door.

Maybe it was instinct or something else but Heahmund immediately knew something was wrong. Ivar was fairly vibrating with fury when he opened the door but Heahmund did not know why. At first he thought he could ignore it as he walked into Ivar’s place but Ivar gave him no opportunity to even do that. Heahmund heard the door close as he put down his laptop bag and notes. Turning around to talk to Ivar, he’s blindsided by Ivar’s fist connecting with his face. He feels a blinding pain and stumbles back but somehow manages to keep from falling down. His own formidable temper goes up and he tackles Ivar in the midsection taking them both crashing down to the ground. Straddling Ivar, he punches him back in the face once before yelling at him, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He barely gets the words out before Ivar manages to successfully roll him over and pins Heahmund to the ground. Using his impressive strength, he is able to restrain Heahmund briefly before leaning down and shocking Heahmund by kissing him.

It’s as if all his brain cells stopped functioning. One minute him and Ivar are on the ground punching each other and now they’re on the floor kissing as if their very lives depended on it. Ivar eases his arms off of Heahmund allowing him use of his arms. Rather than push him away, Heahmund deepens their kiss and uses his hands to feel the strength in Ivar’s arms and shoulders. 

The kiss isn’t enough. They’re frantic, kissing, undressing and trying to get closer to one another, all thoughts of research are gone from both their minds.

It is there on the floor of Ivar’s apartment that they finally become one, taking each other the way the Viking and the Bishop were never able to. No words are spoken between them. There is no need. It is their lips, their touches and soft moans that speak for them. 

The Professor and his student lay together, not caring what else is waiting for them.

Later that night, as the lay in Ivar’s bed, soft light from the full moon casting soft shadows across them, Heahmund finally speaks and dares to bring up what had started all this.

“Ivar, why were you so angry with me when I arrived?”

His head on Heahmund’s chest, Ivar shrugs at first as his fingers idly stroke Heahmund’s body. He feels too good to dwell on what had set him off and doesn’t want to ruin the moment between them by bringing it up. Instead, he chooses to distract Heahmund by planting soft kisses on him before pulling him into a deep kiss.

Heahmund knows he’s being distracted but he welcomes it. Having been with Ivar now, he knows he will never be the same. Welcoming him, he lets himself be swept away by the intensity of sensations and he can admit privately, feelings he has when he’s around Ivar. They’ve known each other a day and yet not. Neither will admit to the other but they feel as if they’ve known each other lifetimes. 

It’s the first rays of dawn that wake up Heahmund. Momentarily confused, it takes him a moment to remember where he was and whom he had spent the night with. Ivar is sleeping on his side, his arm around Heahmund’s waist as if afraid to let him go. He fights a small internal war with himself. He wants to stay, perhaps wake Ivar up in a pleasurable way but a part of him has the desire to run. To leave. He can’t believe he let things go as far as they did. 

Easing himself away from sleeping Ivar, he quietly leaves the bedroom and picks up the trail of clothes on the floor. He dresses quickly before grabbing his bag and leaving. He needs to go home, shower and think. 

It’s only minutes after he leaves that Ivar wakes up. He knows Heahmund is gone before he even opens his eyes. Despite this, he’s not angry. They have class today. 

Heahmund can run but he can’t avoid or hide from Ivar. 

Whether he realizes it or not, Heahmund belongs to him.


End file.
